Revision
by Escaping Gravity
Summary: Post-Endgame. Seven habitually remembers an old conversation, and Janeway can't seem to forget.
1. Chicago and Soju

**A/N:** Inspired by the B2ST/Beast song "Fiction," a rainy day, and bad news. Enjoy. :)

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><p><em><strong>=A=<strong>_

_Seven of Nine sat in the longest silence of her life._

_For someone who had spent most of her existence in the presence of constant chatter, it was almost physically painful to sit in such a silence._

_Another pair of eyes watched her carefully, working through her skin, boring into muscle, piercing through bone until they reached her soul. _

_She longed to take the words back. They had tumbled out so clumsily, a sorry attempt to express something that was already plainly visible. They should never have been uttered, but like dry scraps of paper, they had ignited in her chest and vanished into the air._

_Was that why smoke seemed to be filling her lungs? She was choking._

Pushing aside residual shame, Seven blinked as the moment faded back into the recesses of her memory. That was a long time ago, she reminded herself, and there was no satisfaction in reliving an action that had caused her so much pain.

Her past was not one littered with many regrets, but _this_…this was a disaster that had left an angry scar. It was an error she corrected a thousand times, if only in her own mind—a scene rewritten again and again for the past three years.

Seven sighed and turned away from the sprawling cityscape. There was no one there in the stars, nor in the lights fading out across the lake. No fantasy to escape into. The moon laughed at her feeble attempts from behind the clouds.

Stepping out of the lift some minutes later, Seven winced when the cold, blustery wind of Chicago drilled through her layers of clothing. For a moment she cursed her decision to come here. Why had she chosen such a frigid and unforgiving place, one so completely void of life in the winter?

Snow whipped at her boots, peppered her face. Passerby stared while she stood frozen on the sidewalk. No warmth, no ocean, no sandy beach, no beautiful colors. Bleakness. Her insides felt heavy as she traveled the neatly planned, perpendicular streets of the city.

By the time she reached the bar, festivities were in full swing. She shook off the dirty snow on her boots, stamping firmly into a worn-out mat. The bartender gave her a nod as she strode over.

"A shot of soju, please," she ordered, surprising the burly man. Seven casually glanced about the bar and at the screens blaring with sports and news, ignoring the noisy chatter ringing in her ears. She'd chosen this bar specifically for its alcohol selection, and was not disappointed when her shot was filled without issue. It was gone in a few seconds.

She ordered another.

Suddenly a hush settled on the bar. Seven looked up from her shotglass to find that people were glued to the news broadcasts, waiting in anticipation. She lazily directed her eyes there—the countdown was familiar, something she had seen several times in old footage. The tradition held little appeal for her, despite the energetic shouting that erupted from the crowd. She still did not understand what could possibly be so exciting about a sequence of descending numbers.

As the revelers cheered its completion, she looked at the bartender.

"Happy New Year," she muttered, then drained her glass.

She didn't need to witness happy couples kissing to know that it was happening. Predictable, like clockwork. Normally she favored such routine, but it did nothing to ease her pain tonight. If anything, it had the opposite effect.

The alcohol turned bitter on her tongue.

Seven felt eyes on her and turned to find a dark-haired man sizing her up. An image of Chakotay split into her consciousness; the man bore a vague resemblance to _Voyager_'s former commander. Strong build, dark eyes, serious look. Seven met his eyes steadily.

It had become painfully obvious that no matter whose company she acquired at night, or what quantity of alcohol she ingested, her relief was always fleeting, and therefore her coping methods were inefficient. But relief was relief, and Seven did not know how else to escape.


	2. San Francisco State of Mind

_**=A=**_

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><p>"<em>I can't give you the answer you're looking for."<em>

Janeway awoke with a start.

"Computer, lights."

Illumination painted the room in sterile white light. She squinted against the intrusion, shielding her eyes slightly from the brightness. The groggy haze in her mind started to clear only as she sat up, glancing out through the window. Outside, the sun had only just begun its ascent across the horizon, its fledgling rays chasing the wee-hour darkness from the sky.

Her feet hit the cold floor. The day was about to start, and she needed some coffee to settle her jangly nerves.

Janeway dressed into her uniform with meticulous detail, as always. The steaming mug in her hand had simply become an accessory to regulation dress code; her fellow officers knew better than to question the presence of a coffee mug. They had experienced her coffee-deprived wrath once, and it never happened again.

She left for Starfleet Headquarters busily browsing her agenda for the day. Nothing extremely important—the same duties she had been performing since being promoted. Her diplomatic presence was not required currently, there were no pressing orders to deliver, no new starships needed inspecting. Her workload had entered a deep lull recently. Not that she was complaining.

"Good morning, Admiral," her assistant, Kole, greeted her as she stepped into her office. "I see you've already made yourself some coffee."

"Rough morning," Janeway responded. "How are you today?"

"I'm well, thanks. Just so you know, you have several messages waiting for you at your terminal. Only one needs immediate attention."

"Ah," she acknowledged, hand on her hip while she stood. "Thank you. I'll be in my office. Bring me another cup in an hour?"

Kole grinned. "I'll bring two. You look like you'll need it."

The familiar Starfleet insignia appeared when Janeway accessed her terminal, kicking her mind into gear. She set her mug down, quickly accepting orders to make routine inspections of several space stations in the Alpha Quadrant as part of an effort to maintain battle readiness and ensure that all systems and crew operated at peak efficiency. The inspection schedule was grueling in a boring sort of way, but it would give her the opportunity to get out from behind her desk.

Over the past few years she'd learned to be thankful for the small things. Strange, how similar it was to _Voyager. _

She perused the rest of the messages and smiled when her eye caught on a particular sender. Janeway opened the message without hesitation, hand on her chin as she read.

It was from Tom Paris. The Paris family has taken a vacation in the Beta Quadrant…and B'Elanna was pregnant again. Janeway sent a reply with proud congratulations, well-wishes, and a small update on the events of her own life. She dearly missed the sandy-haired pilot who had, once upon a time, been her personal reclamation project. He'd come so far in the past several years.

She studied an image he'd sent planetside for a long moment, lingering on his and B'Elanna's smiling faces, little Miral making a face at her mother, the warm sunshine on their features. If anyone deserved happiness after _Voyager_, it was Tom Paris. His hard work on himself merited it. No longer a philandering convict slaving away in a penal colony, he'd become man with integrity, a family, and a stable Starfleet job.

Kole strode in to refuel Janeway early, coffee cups in tow. Her mind snapped to business.

"Thanks, Kole. Please inform Admiral Patterson that I'll be unable to meet him for lunch next Friday; I'm scheduled to give a guest lecture during our usual time."

"Of course, Admiral." The dark-haired woman nodded and disappeared again to perform the rest of her duties for the day. "Let me know when you need another cup," she called.

Before returning to her own work, Janeway made a mental note to drop in on one of Tom's classes at Starfleet's flight school and watch him in action. She suspected that his students would very much enjoy watching him squirm.


	3. The Stalker in You

_**=A=**_

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><p>"<em>The only answer I seek is an honest one. Do you reciprocate?"<em>

Seven's slacks flapped in the windy weather of San Francisco, considerably warmer than the iciness of Chicago quite a few hours prior. As per her habit, she sat on the same bench she always sat at, facing the same direction she always faced, with her eyes on the same door she watched every day.

Cadets passed her without incident, as accustomed to her presence as they were to the flowers adorning the paths and the works of sculpture in the park. Occasionally they would approach her with questions—but her cool demeanor immediately discouraged anything other than purely academic questions. She was not keen to speak of her personal life, nor was she interested in small talk. In fact, she frequently carried a PADD to keep herself occupied and thus avoid dealing with inanities.

With a straight back and impeccable posture, Seven reopened the novel she had been reading over the past week. The sound of boots clacking faded as she began to read, her mind adjusting, and finally the words pulled her in. She easily committed herself to the reality of someone else, emotions that did not belong to her, and a place that offered an escape from her own existence.

It was 20 minutes later when she remembered the time, and lifted her eyes to study the doorway across the grounds. It didn't budge. Seven waited patiently.

Suddenly, it slid open to reveal the reason she loitered here each day. Admiral Janeway rapidly cut across Academy grounds, strolling with a purpose.

Seven, struck, admired her. The older woman's gait, poise, and steely expression were unmistakable. Even from this distance, it was impossible to miss the power radiating from a woman who could take on the universe without batting an eyelash. She was someone you simply _noticed_.

As she watched, Janeway's head turned to acknowledge a professor crossing her path—and rotated just far enough to catch Seven in her line of sight, far across the way.

The ex-Borg's dehydrated heart split open painfully as they locked eyes. In her weeks of coming here, perching inconspicuously on her far-off bench, this had never occurred. Now that it had, caught by surprise—caught looking—she was too shocked to take her eyes from the former captain.

In the distance Janeway faltered on her route, unsure, and then changed direction.

The PADD sank slowly to her lap as the Admiral steadily approached, the novel wholly forgotten. Seconds passed like melting glaciers. Seven desperately fought the urge to get up, to get away from what was about to happen. Instead, she forced a smile.

"Seven," Janeway flashed a wide, surprised grin as she walked up to the bench. "It's been too long."

"Indeed," she agreed, a flat note creeping into the word.

If Janeway noticed, she didn't let on. The warmth and concern in her eyes were genuine. Seven wished it wasn't.

"How have you been? We all thought you'd disappeared somewhere for a while, and then I recently heard that you were enrolled here," Janeway chattered. Seven didn't want to discuss any of those topics, and was relieved when Janeway continued with something that was easier to corral.

"I can't imagine the Academy is keeping you very busy."

Her face carefully impassive, Seven deflected the flattery. "Academy classes are challenging on occasion. I have learned a number of things already." She glanced down at Janeway's uniform, pointedly noting the rank change. "How are you finding the admiralty?"

The Admiral chuckled. "It's less stressful than captaining _Voyager_," she lightly remarked. "Less personal concerns, more official business. Could be worse."

Seven smiled politely. The younger woman was quite content to let there be an awkward pause if it meant that Janeway would be leaving as soon as possible. Her discomfort was nearly invisible, but she could feel her insides melting under the heat of past memory.

Nevertheless, her poker face was exceptional. It was studied, practiced, and implemented continuously during her last year aboard _Voyager_. Maintaining her professional composure with Captain Janeway had become almost automatic. Necessary. To preserve their working relationship and her own pride and dignity, there was no other choice but to deny that anything was ever said, and studiously ignore the steaming cauldron.

The problem was that the cauldron exploded as soon as the forces keeping it at bay—Janeway's proximity, professional needs—vanished. Seven was still dodging that shrapnel.

"Well," Janeway filled, when it was clear that Seven wasn't going to speak, "we should catch up soon, I'd like to hear what you've been up to. We were all worried about your disappearance." The undertone in her voice made it clear that the Admiral had been concerned, didn't quite enjoy being left in the dark, and would extract an explanation sooner or later despite Seven's deflections. It was her way with the people she cared about.

"I'll leave you to your reading."

"Thank you. Good day, Admiral," Seven replied, injecting a warmth into her voice that she didn't feel. She clutched at the PADD absently as her knuckles subtly turned white. The older woman paused for the smallest moment, causing Seven to wonder. Was she aware of the game Seven was playing and the act she was engaged in, or was Seven imagining things, projecting her own feelings onto Janeway?

Or was the Admiral's poker face as equally impenetrable as her own?

She knew Janeway well enough to know the answer to that question.

"I'm sure I'll see you around," The Admiral finished, leaving Seven with her confusion. She turned away as if the world hadn't just ended, and was quietly on her way.

Seven refused to watch her and instead forced her eyes to make contact with the unfeeling device in her hand. She thought about breaking it—about smashing it into the ground until the circuits were far beyond repair—and by some unknown miracle managed to refrain from doing so. She could only sit and regard it with contempt as her energy rapidly evaporated.

The Doctor's bestselling words, his first novel, were no longer adequate as an escape.


	4. Coffee Plus Ethics

_**=A=**_

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><p>Janeway strode into the lecture hall, words on the PADD etched into her mind. It was one of the largest halls at the Academy, as well as one of the best-designed. Excellent acoustics, pleasant color scheme, new furniture, efficient layout. Spacious and inviting.<p>

Part of her duties as Admiral included lecturing at the Academy, and since she had not been assigned to teach her own classes during the spring semester, she was required to give guest lectures. She rather enjoyed teaching, truth be told, and didn't mind the breaks in her sometimes dreary daily schedule. It would have been preferable to teach her own courses, but most admirals were assigned to teach on a rotating basis.

Given a choice, she'd love to take on one or two of the upper-level science courses. Realistically, however, Janeway knew she'd be asked to instruct students on the command track. She sighed inwardly.

While she shook hands with the professor and sat off to the side of his lectern, she reviewed her lecture mentally. A small buzz went up from the students as they recognized her.

"Good afternoon, cadets," the professor finally began after some minutes. "As you know, we have a guest lecturer today, but as always, I have not revealed to you who our lecturer is."

Quiet settled on the students gathered in the hall, all of whom were peering to look down at the compact figure seated near him.

"It's best to keep you on your toes, I think. Surprises keep things interesting," he smiled warmly at them, pausing before gesturing to Janeway and delivering his introduction.

"All of you will instantly recognize this woman as Vice Admiral Janeway, former captain of the returned starship _Voyager_. If there is anyone more qualified to teach you about the difficulties of navigating Starfleet ethics in unexpected situations, I do not know who it is."

He turned to the Admiral with a twinkle in his eye. "Obviously her reputation precedes her and I believe she needs no introduction. It's entirely my pleasure to welcome Admiral Janeway into our discussion and exploration of ethics. Please give her a warm welcome."

Applause rippled through the hall as she stood and thanked the lanky man once again, taking her place at the lectern. Young faces stared back at her, some more intent than others, all waiting to hear her speak. She smiled.

It wasn't unlike the bridge.

"Let me tell you the first thing I learned about the subject of ethics," she began, her smile widening into a full-on grin. "It's one hell of a subject to tackle unless I've had several cups of coffee."

The cadets smiled, some laughing quietly, as they'd heard stories of Janeway's coffee addiction.

"Which means," she continued more seriously, "you've got to find the thing that centers you and clears your mind if you want to see into the heart of a situation and make sound ethical decisions."

She adopted a wry tone and lowered her voice. "To rephrase that once more for the sleeping cadets who missed it: lapses in judgment can be traced directly back to coffee deprivation. I take no responsibility for actions I may or may not have taken in such states of deprivation."

More laughter.

Janeway moved out from behind the lectern, as it wasn't her style to remain stationary while giving any sort of speech. "But, jokes aside, let me be honest with you. Trying to apply your ethics training as a Starfleet officer aboard a starship can be a daunting task. You will encounter situations that were not covered in any class, manual, textbook, or training situation at the Academy. As I understand it, the point of this course is to prepare you to analyze all types of ethical problems and make tough calls when needed.

"The point of my lecture, specifically, is to show you that sometimes you will need to be creative with your ethical training in order to achieve your goals, because the situations you come across will rarely appear in black and white. I was rather creative, as many of you have read."

The Admiral ruefully smiled. "I didn't always make the best calls."

Her speech was well-written and well-played. It was important to her to acknowledge mistakes to the cadets—to teach them that no officer is perfect and that sometimes we all must make decisions based on incomplete information or in times of extreme emotional distress. The results may not be what anyone intends. To their credit, the cadets seemed to respond well to her honesty about her own experiences, and listened with interest as she revealed her thought process. They needed to understand each of the issues at stake and how to weigh options against ethical training and Starfleet protocol. Janeway was careful to point out where she had deviated from regulation, to reflect on those decisions and their results, and to encourage the cadets to ask questions at the end of the class. The words flowed smoothly as she progressed through her prepared presentation.

She was nearing the end, focusing on personal ethical concerns aboard starships, when her gaze faltered.

Seven of Nine's cool blue eyes studied her from several rows back.

Introductory Starfleet ethics courses were required for all cadets, of course. That was news to no one. Somehow the idea that Seven could be present in the class, however, had just never occurred to Janeway.

And her timing couldn't have been worse.

"In the course of _Voyager_'s journey, one of the most personal ethical concerns I dealt with was the issue of fraternization with my crew."

The words left her mouth as she now stared at Seven, and she winced mentally. As fast as her stunned mind could work, she revised her lecture on the fly, sharply editing it. And she averted her eyes.

"I don't normally make a habit of discussing my personal life, but it has been on display over the past two years. Most of you already know that I refrained from engaging in a relationship with anyone under my command for seven years. Suffice it to say that this was an incredibly taxing decision on my part, but well worth it. If you have further ethical questions on this subject, I'm happy to discuss them after class."

Janeway took a deep breath and finished on a lighter note summarizing her experiences. The sound of applause again reached her ears, some students standing to honor her, but she could not find any satisfaction in it. Her eyes returned to the blonde woman watching her.

"_It doesn't matter whether I reciprocate your feelings or not, Seven. You know that I can't enter into a romantic relationship with anyone on this ship."_

"_I require a definitive answer."_

"_Think about the irrelevance of what you're asking."_

"_On the contrary, Captain. I cannot determine if your interest is an illusion I have constructed, or if I am indeed correctly reading your behavior. It is impossible to focus on my duties with the resulting feelings of anxiety, sexual tension, and uncertainty." _

"_My reply can't possibly be—" _

"_Your honest response is necessary for me to function at an optimal level. Please assist me by giving it."_

"_You're putting me in a very difficult position, Seven."_

"_It is not a complicated question. Naomi Wildman can answer it. Do you reciprocate or not, Captain?"_

Janeway closed her eyes briefly, trying to forget the conversation pushing its way through her head. When she opened them, Seven was still gazing steadily at her…across a sea of people who, quite suddenly, ceased to matter.

"_I don't."_

Seven stood to exit the hall. Janeway swore in her head.

The questions being asked by the students gathered around her bounced off of her hollowly. She answered them with honesty, but without the same level of passion that was present in the rest of her lecture. She prayed they didn't notice.

When they left, after the professor had thanked her and the hall had cleared, she took a deep breath. Then she walked out too.


	5. The Chakotay Chapter

_**=A=**_

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><p>Seven angrily kicked at the punching bag, throwing a series of punches to follow up. Physical exercise was an excellent way to relieve stress, but she didn't care much about health benefits at the moment. She wanted only to channel her feelings and give them a tangible form.<p>

Never once had she felt this emotional with Chakotay.

That was probably why they'd fallen apart in the first place.

Ripping off her gloves, she stood in the relative silence of the gym. It was 0330. It was also impossible to sleep. She took the lift to the ground floor.

Her sweat cooled in the brisk wind outside. She breathed deeply, looking out over the Academy grounds and buildings. A walk was in order—anywhere but here was acceptable.

While she gazed at the stars, feet carrying her along the way, Chakotay came floating back in shards of memories…him teaching her about the constellations of his people, the stories behind each, how their movements shifted and interacted. He seemed to find wisdom and clarity in the stars.

When she had decided to go, he had smiled. Had he read it in the sky?

He'd let her go. Without a problem and without incident…instead encouraging her to explore the full spectrum of human experience. Even now, a year later, she wondered how he was able to do it. He must have read her feelings, he must have known what she needed before she'd been aware of it. Her life experience had dramatically expanded thanks to the freedom he had given her—the past year had turned her into an infinitely more mature Seven of Nine. No longer innocent, and no longer in need of counsel. She'd come to know herself deeply.

Thoughts of Chakotay calmed her, and she briefly considered sending him a message. They kept in touch regularly and remained on friendly terms. He had also matured; she knew he had recently rediscovered his roots and was working both as a spiritual healer and researcher on behalf of his people. He seemed happy.

She looked down at her feet.

"_Thank you for your honesty, Captain. I will not trouble you any longer."_

Where was her happiness?

_**=A=**_

"Kole, I have a favor to ask of you." Admiral Janeway glanced up from the paperwork she'd now read 30 times.

"Of course, Admiral. What can I do for you?" Kole's warm brown eyes seemed to understand that Janeway was struggling with something. Her empathy made her a valuable assistant and occasional confidante, and was usually perfectly timed.

"I need you to locate Chakotay for me. Can you do it as quickly as possible?"

Kole smiled knowingly. "Done. Anything else I can get for you? Another cup?"

"Yes, please," Janeway replied, hoping to finish her reading within the hour. She settled in again, leaning back in her comfortable chair.

Not ten minutes later, Kole reappeared.

"That was easy. Chakotay is planetside on a research trip, studying ancient healing artifacts found near his ancestral home. He received grants from several prominent donors—not hard to track."

Janeway's relief at the good fortune was evident. "Excellent. I'd like to contact him—can you open a channel for me in five?"

Again Kole's perceptiveness asserted itself. "Yes, ma'am. I'll get you a secure personal channel. Not a problem."

The Admiral finished another few pages of the report and then waited as the channel was opened to a location much nearer the Equator. She imagined Chakotay, dressed out of uniform, sweating in the tropical weather. It had been some months since they last spoke to each other—she wondered if he would look different, or if he had kept to his usual style.

At that moment his face appeared. He smiled broadly. "Kathryn. It's good to hear from you again."

His face looked much the same—a little older, with some facial hair, but still recognizable as Chakotay. She grinned back at him. "It's good to see you too. I heard you're doing some research. Found anything of interest yet?"

He shrugged. "A few things, but I doubt you called me to hear about that. What's on your mind?"

"I've always loved that I can't bullshit you, Chakotay."

"Are you sure about that?" he joked. "I remember quite a few times where you didn't take to that ability very kindly…"

"I know. I was stubborn," Janeway admitted, chuckling a little, then sobered as she prepared to discuss the real reason she'd contacted him. "It's about Seven."

She was surprised when his face lit up with humor.

"Clearly you know something I don't," Janeway murmured, hoping he would explain himself.

His brown eyes were gentle. "No…I just knew that you would ask me about this," he responded. "Someday, I mean."

In the perplexed silence, he laughed to himself. "Frankly, it's about time."

"And just what is it that I'm going to ask you about?" Janeway was somewhat irritated that Chakotay apparently knew a lot more than she did.

"You're going to ask me what happened to her…maybe what happened between us…and maybe why she is enrolled at the Academy," he postulated indifferently, obviously without residual feelings left over from the relationship. He held her eyes. "Am I right?"

Janeway leaned back in her chair, face unreadable. "Go on."

He sat quietly for a few moments. "It's a very short story. Seven decided to leave and I told her to go. It had been clear to me, for some time, that she needed to be doing something else," he began, eyes slightly distant as he recollected past events that Janeway could only guess at. "Like finding herself. As I was also reconnecting with myself and my ancestors, I understood her situation. I let her go—and that's why she disappeared."

"I see. Quite a short story," Janeway agreed. "More simple than I would have expected. And the Academy?"

At this, Chakotay looked to the side for a second. "I think that's for you to ask her, if you don't already know yourself."

Janeway knew Chakotay as well as anyone else; none of his behavior escaped her. Her mind worked quickly to get around his reluctance.

"I would, except that she seems to want nothing to do with me."

Now he looked back at her intently. "Then I guess you'll have to figure this one out for yourself, Kathryn. You need to hear about Seven's life from Seven, not from me."

Rebuffed, she leaned in again defiantly. They stared at each other in silence for several moments.

"Approach her if she won't approach you, Kathryn. You know how she is about her pride and stubbornness—same as you. So you won't get anywhere unless you put yours aside for her," Chakotay suggested, trying his best to push Kathryn along without holding her hand. He never once imagined that he'd be playing matchmaker for these two women one day…what a funny universe this was.

He wearily rubbed at his eyes. "Sorry to cut you short, but I need to get back to work."

"Understood, and thank you for your help," Janeway replied. She looked at him thoughtfully from across the space. "When did you become so wise, Chakotay?"

He grinned. "After I left your command."

"Ouch," Janeway playfully grimaced, wishing she could smack him. "But I guess I deserved that. It was good to talk again—goodnight, Chakotay."

"Goodnight, Kathryn. Don't back out."

He cut the comm before she could respond.


	6. Bullshit

_**=A=**_

* * *

><p>It was weeks later, after she'd almost forgotten about the Admiral's lecture, that Seven had the misfortune of meeting her again.<p>

She grabbed her bag from the locker room, fresh from a shower. A peaceful feeling settled in her chest, the aftermath of a thrilling match. Her body was alert, supple, her mind clear. This was the clarity she had been craving for a long time, the feeling of purpose and accomplishment. Something other than emptiness. Seven strode smoothly out of the gym and out onto the Academy grounds.

The weather had turned warmer—winter was slowly abating. Her skin felt cool after such a workout, the crisp air invigorating in her lungs. She closed her eyes as she walked, letting the feeling of serenity sink deep into her body.

Eventually she came to a familiar spot, one with a great view of the water to the west, and slowly seated herself.

She lost track of time. It was satisfying enough to simply look out over the world.

She longed for such moments, and had come to appreciate them when they graced her life, because they were rare. Seven could now recognize them as moments that told her she was "at home" in this life situation—moments when she felt she belonged. Which was always an achievement for her.

Therefore she was, of course, less than pleased when Admiral Janeway intruded.

"Great match, Captain."

Her voice was grating against the distant city buzz and rustling of the trees nearby. Seven blinked in annoyance.

"Thank you," she answered automatically, without turning around.

"I'd like to think that our matches aboard _Voyager _primed you for your position on the Velocity team here, but I suppose that would be vain," Janeway smiled a little, although Seven couldn't see her. "You would beat me soundly now."

In no mood to talk, the younger woman ignored the pleasantries and curtly threw a barb.

"Why did you follow me here?"

Janeway was slightly taken aback by the pointed question. The breeze drifted across as she considered, unsure of how to open the conversation. She opted to start slowly.

"I wanted to congratulate you on your victory."

"Bullshit."

Janeway's eyebrows shot up.

Seven could feel the shocked expression she had generated, the hard gaze on her shoulders.

"Mind your words. I am still your superior, _cadet_," the Admiral admonished, command tone snapping back into place. "That was uncalled for."

"So was your intrusion into my personal time," Seven parried evenly.

The breeze continued for another minute.

"I apologize for interrupting," Janeway finally tried, switching to soft power tactics. She remembered Seven's penchant for stubborn arguing all too well; that wouldn't get them anywhere. "I came here to talk."

Seven swallowed, still staring out at the water. "Then do it quickly."

Janeway was becoming exasperated with Seven's resistance. She sighed, gazed downwards. "You remember our conversations aboard _Voyager_…the philosophical discussions and the off-hours when I would teach you about the finer points of humanity," she recounted, examining her hands as she spoke, then looking up at the younger woman's back. "I'd like to rebuild that relationship with you again. Is that a sufficient reason to talk?"

To her bewilderment, Seven stood and gave her a vaporizing stare.

"No. It is entirely insufficient. Clearly you cannot recognize the person I have become, Admiral. You cannot even recognize that I no longer require your teaching; I have gained more experience without your guidance than I ever would have under it. Therefore I see no need to rebuild anything. Good day."

She shouldered her bag and stalked off without so much as a twitch backwards.


	7. Ask and You Shall Receive

_**=A=**_

* * *

><p>Janeway was left numb for several minutes, alone, with nothing to do but absorb the impact of the ex-Borg's words and the terseness of her actions. She watched the water, unable to move.<p>

After some indeterminate time, she felt pliable enough to lower herself to her haunches and rub her temples. Her joints ached slightly with stress as she did so—her mind sagged with a different kind of stress.

What just happened?

Hadn't she been directing the conversation toward safer waters? Hadn't she been conciliatory, hadn't she sincerely extended an olive branch? She just wanted to talk—Seven's reaction was completely unreasonable. She'd followed Chakotay's recommendation, had come as humbly as possible...no? She'd sure as hell tried. Now the dialogue was utterly obliterated and she was crouching in its ashes.

Again: what the hell had happened?

The answer came back much quicker and shorter than she expected.

_Seven called you out. _

No.

_Yes._

Frustrated, Janeway rose to her feet once more and began walking. The sun had started to set, its colors washing over the flowers and faces of people she passed on her way. Birds that had gone unseen for months reappeared, and even chirped a few notes for her.

Beauty was much easier to appreciate when she wasn't involved in stewing over personal matters, she decided. Unfortunately, this needed attention.

She thought back to the Seven she knew aboard _Voyager_: the stubborn, rough, nearly antisocial person she had begun as. The awkward implants on her body, her less-than-human monotone and technical vocabulary…she was a piece of work. Important trials and tribulations smoothed her edges and gave her more experience, of course. And then there was the Velocity matches, their conversations, their arguments, her eventual status as a vital crewmember—one who even learned to be pleasantly social, one who made her proud. A crewmember _Voyager _could not have survived long without.

Janeway faltered and turned downcast, Seven's image carved deeply into her memory.

She could not un-carve it.

The bitter shards of regret remained stuck.

"_Do you reciprocate or not, Captain?"_

"_I don't."_

But now that Seven was gone. It was someone else she'd just spoken to, a different Seven. A Seven who could see through her pretense, who knew when she was pulling the mentor card. One who definitely could call her out. She was dealing with a more human, more refined Seven of Nine.

Could that Seven still feel the same way?

_Ask._


	8. Hell Still Left To Pay

_**=A=**_

* * *

><p>Seven's lungs hurt for no discernable reason. They burned, in fact.<p>

This was not happening—her pride would not let it happen. She'd fallen for that benign-looking cover before, and she wouldn't be fooled again. Accepting those words was playing with fire, leading down a slippery slope that ended in pain. She'd choked on that smoke, that friendly ruse, too many times before.

Still, Kathryn Janeway's eyes followed her.

She felt them, hawkish, every so often…whenever their paths crossed. Seven tried to make sure they didn't.

They had not spoken since Seven had made it clear that there was no need to. She refused to make eye contact or acknowledge the Admiral in any way if possible—Seven ignored the situation and thus relegated the Admiral to insignificant status. After all, hadn't Janeway engaged in the same behavior not so long ago, used the same tactic? The message should have been absolutely clear. Clear as acid.

Inside her dormitory quarters, in the silence, she dropped her bag and set a PADD on the table. Her quarters were dim; she did not need full illumination. Seven approached the replicator to make an order, as she always did after Velocity practice.

"Energy supplement 8," she requested. It beeped a confirmation and her food appeared shortly. A liquid ion supplement followed, one that Seven actually found palatable.

Then again, a lot of things seemed more palatable after Neelix's cooking.

She took the supplements to her bedside and consumed them at a leisurely pace, enjoying the bits of flavor. Her room wasn't very garishly decorated; it was spartan. That wouldn't have surprised anyone. There wasn't much to look at as she ate, so she replayed the points she had scored during practice. Seven slowed and froze specific shots, studying the angle of her phaser and the placement of the Velocity disc. Today's workout had been an extremely successful one, at least on Seven's end; she had lost only a few points even against the better players on the Academy team.

Her mental exercise completed minutes later, she got up and scanned the PADD on the table to begin her next workout. It contained some of the lecture notes for her classes today. She was in the middle of reviewing them when her door chimed.

Eyes fixed on the door, she lowered the PADD. "Computer, identify the visitor."

The computer beeped in acknowledgement.

"The visitor is Vice Admiral Kathryn Janeway."

Seven took a breath, startled but not surprised. "Admiral Janeway is denied access to these quarters."

Outside, she could hear Janeway's raised yet muffled voice.

_Seven of Nine, I've had a lot of coffee, and I'll melt through this door with a phaser if I have to. Don't test me._

Though she undoubtedly would have made good on her promise, Admiral Janeway was able to easily override the standard lock on cadet quarters using her security codes. She stepped inside, looking very perturbed.

"That was completely unnecessary," she commented, ignoring Seven's atomic glare.

"You realize that you are trespassing," Seven coolly informed her. "Please remove yourself from my quarters."

Janeway smiled, stepping fluidly towards the blonde. "They're Starfleet's. And I am authorized to enter them with probable cause."

"You do not have probable cause. Get out."

"I have something to say," Janeway persisted, coming to stop a few feet from the other woman. "Something that should not be said outside of these quarters," she added quietly.

"I don't want to hear it!" Seven's eyes flashed angrily. "Leave!"

The older woman chose to say her piece anyways, diving into their shared personal territory and dragging Seven with her.

"A long time ago, you told me that you believed you had fallen in love with me." She kept her eyes clear and her hands at her sides as she spoke. "That you exhibited all of the symptoms, and that you believed it was possible I felt the same way."

The ex-Borg stood still as a statue, with eyes of stone.

"You asked me if I reciprocated those feelings," Janeway resolutely went on, gambling that Seven was reliving this particular memory as often as she was. "I told you that I did not."

Seven's jaw tightened dangerously. Janeway reached for damage control, but the detonation was long since happening.

"I was trying to protect you, Seven—"

"You nearly destroyed me in the process!"

"I didn't mean to—"

"To hurt me?" Seven cut in bitterly. "You took _everything_ from me and then pretended—continue to pretend—like nothing happened," she seethed, eyes blazing with hell still left to pay. "You knew I was fragile and yet left me alone to deal with all of it! You were a _coward_."

"A coward?" Janeway nearly choked, suddenly feeling as though she were on her knees. So much for asking Seven about her feelings.

"Yes, fearless Captain Janeway was a coward," the younger woman repeated furiously, and then delivered the coup de grace. "She was too much of a coward to admit that she felt the exact same way."

Seven's eyes could have cut diamonds.

Janeway crossed the space, refusing to allow guilt to splinter over her features. She stood inches from the younger woman's scathing gaze, matching it evenly.

"I am not a coward."

Seven almost sneered down at her, offended at the very suggestion.

Janeway reached up and kissed her.

Even as she felt the smaller woman's hands on her neck and face, and the soft pressure of her lips, Seven could only instinctively close her eyes. The Admiral soon moved to her neck, fingers now firmly in her hair. The breath on her skin was warm and inviting. She was vaguely aware—somewhere—that this was the moment she had been starving for. Still frozen, she let the older woman tentatively begin to touch her body.

_Is it really being rewritten after all these long years of regret?_

Her anger and pain thawed under Janeway's hands as they gently fell along her back. The hurt and resentment trickled away from her face; hardness dissipated under the salve of the Admiral's hesitating, sensual apology…the long-awaited cure to her misery.

Seven was finally able to regain control of her body.

She pushed Janeway several steps backwards into the wall, both of them breathing heavily as they stared at each other in the dim light. Seven intently studied the older woman's eyes.

They were unguarded and sorry, and that was all she was looking for.

The ex-Borg pounced, unable to contain the desire burning throughout her body at the sight of a surrendering Admiral Janeway.

She closed the distance as Janeway's hands rose to meet her. Seven smoothly intercepted them and thrust the Admiral into the wall, easily pinning her by the wrists with one hand. The hold was tight, practiced, and left Janeway's hands trapped helplessly above her head.

Seven used her free hand to stroke the Admiral's jaw.

"Clearly you _have _been busy learning," Janeway murmured, unused to being so defenseless but finding the role reversal enjoyable. "Although I wish it had been under my guidance…"

The younger woman deliberately let her trail off, staring at her in the most unchaste way.

Janeway felt her pulse race.

The ex-Borg smiled suggestively, then leaned in with ease and began to slide her tongue along the Admiral's ear. It was an achingly slow journey. A shiver shot through the shorter woman's yielding body, traveling faintly into Seven's hand. She moved her hand from Janeway's face and let it wander down lazily…until it found its way underneath the Starfleet uniform and caught on the hem it sought.

As her fingers crept along the border between fabric and skin, Seven moved to the Admiral's exposed neck.

Withstanding the combination of Seven's teasing hand and wet kisses became impossible, and Janeway started to struggle fiercely against the other woman's hold on her wrists.

This only increased the strength with which the ex-Borg held her, causing sparks of pain to fly from Janeway's arms.

"Submit," she commanded tightly, lightly pressing her thigh into the correct place.

The Admiral made a strangled noise that Seven recognized as a low moan. She also recognized it as code for _give me more_, and obliged. She returned to Janeway's neck with vigor and rocked into her, with just enough force so that she could feel the friction.

Janeway closed her eyes against the overwhelming sensation of pleasure and tilted her her head back against the wall. She no longer cared about her bound and upraised hands, and forgot any lingering concerns about their relationship; her lips parted involuntarily as she let go.

Seven watched it happen, watched the compliance melt over Janeway's face and the way her lips moved, and grinned wantonly.

"I accept your submission," she whispered, feeling the last drops of her anger drain away.

So Janeway was not a coward after all.

* * *

><p><strong>AN3:** As happens sometimes, this story took on a mind of its own and veered off the path I'd originally envisioned, which was almost completely Seven-centered.

I had a lot of ideas floating around about how to bridge gaps after _Voyager_'s landing, realistically project changes in character, and expand on the context…but for all of that input, it seems I still ended up writing a condensed version of the whole potential story. It will probably be re-edited eventually and altered to fix whatever holes I find, bumps in the story flow, or to add detail and round out the storyline. But for now, this is the rough final product. If you have a suggestion or observation or anything you'd like to share, please do!

I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. :)


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